Making Our History: Victor Nikiforov

By Spunky0ne

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The time comes for Victor Nikiforov to return to the ice, but as he does, he and fiancé, Yuuri Katsuki, encounter a number of obstacles.

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Chapter 1: From Russia, with Love

It's kind of odd, traveling alone this time after spending the greater part of a year coaching Yuuri Katsuki. I'd gotten so used to leaning over and sleeping on his shoulder on our flights here or there that even in first class, where I can just recline my seat and sleep comfortably, I don't sleep at all. Instead, I sit, looking out the window and missing his cute face, his familiar voice and that sweet scent that always seems to be around him.

I can't even talk to someone else, because I had to change my plans on short notice and took a different flight from Yakov and Yurio. Not that Yurio is particularly good company. But, he's at least some company. God, when did I become so dependent on that? I feel pathetic and bored, staring out the window at nothing.

Oh, it's time to take my medication.

I search my carry-on and quickly realize that the sedative I was given is nowhere to be found. It's not anything I need to panic about, I suppose. It's meant to help me cope as I get my drinking back under control. But it's been a few days since I lost it and drank myself into near oblivion.

I didn't used to do things like that.

I did start drinking at a pretty young age, but I wasn't one of the ones who drank very heavily. Instead, I'd have one or two and watch and take pictures of my friends who got wasted. That way, when Yakov occasionally caught me sneaking out, he wouldn't yell at me as much. I didn't really start drinking too much until more recently. Before going to Hasetsu, I was drinking more regularly, but I didn't start getting wasted, myself, until I was away from home and in that new place where I could pretty much do anything I wanted and no one would yell at me at all. Even when I really started to overdo it, while Yuuri would scold me some, he wasn't as scary as Yakov, and his parents were too nice to scold me.

I don't think it was the everyday kind of drinking that put me where I am. The times I really overdid it were either times that I became overexcited or times when I was emotionally overwrought…like when Yuuri and I would have a really bad fight, or the time when Macca was ill and I had to go back to Hasetsu and watch Yuuri's free skate from helplessly far away.

So, maybe as long as Yakov was looking over my shoulder and was constantly on my back to focus all of my energy on skating, I didn't have the time or energy to be overly indulgent. I wonder if just going home and back to skating will be enough on its own to turn me back around.

Maybe I don't really need rehabilitation.

Maybe I do.

Maybe what I need is to not feel so damned lonely. I think that was what was making me question myself, even though I was on top of the skating world. I guess it's strange to be lonely when I am surrounded by people who lust after me and cheer me on. But do those people really even see me? Sure, they see what's obvious, that I have a desirable exterior. But, why is it that when anyone would get really close, when they'd get beneath that, they would always eventually leave?

I guess physical beauty and surface charms aren't enough if you want people to really love you. But, why am I worried about this now? I have Yuuri. And it's as Yakov says, Yuuri is the only one of my lovers who loved that I am human, that I am not perfect. Yuuri knows everything about me now, and despite my shortcomings, he still desires me.

But Yuuri's there and I'm…

"Excuse me, Victor," a familiar man's voice says, interrupting my thoughts.

I'm glad.

My thoughts weren't very happy anyway.

"Oh, hello Morooka," I say, smiling, "I didn't know you were on this flight."

"I originally wasn't, but then I was asked to travel to Saint Petersburg, last moment."

"Is that right? Why is that?"

I start to feel a little uncomfortable as I notice his expression. Hisashi Morooka is a friendly person and enthusiastic about figure skating. When Yuuri had lost in his first try at the Grand Prix Finals, Morooka strongly encouraged him to keep trying. He is a person who always tries to see the best in others. I don't think I've seen him wear this concerned expression before.

"Victor, there's something that you should know," he says, slipping into the open seat next to mine, "There are rumors circulating that there was some kind of incident in Barcelona."

"What kind of incident?" I ask.

I have a sinking feeling I already know. I mean, Yakov did do his best to protect my identity and privacy, but people are people, and people talk. Yes, I think I know what he's going to tell me.

"An unidentified source from a Barcelona hospital has leaked that you were admitted there for some kind of medical treatment. Now, the details don't seem to have been revealed, but I think you and I know that this kind of thing, if the flames get fanned, could be bad for you."

Before I can really react, he places a hand on my arm.

"I know you're aware that I don't want to see something like that happen. It wouldn't be good for the sport and it really wouldn't be good for you."

Now I regret taking this flight alone. Unfortunately, my rather sudden decision to return for the Russian Nationals meant I didn't have time to go back to Hasetsu as planned, and I had to change flights. There was no way around this. Anyway, what's done is done. I have seconds to do something…to think of something.

"Are you saying this as a friend or are you saying this as a sportscaster?" I ask him, "Because you know that whatever may or may not have happened, something like that makes a difference."

Morooka gives me a look that says he understands me asking him that.

"Right now, I'm speaking as a friend," he answers, "It looks like you're traveling unaccompanied, and I heard just before boarding that there are reporters waiting at the airport."

Damn it. Yakov's flight is in the air now too. I wonder if he knows? He usually handles things like this. He'll get there ahead of me, but I wonder if he'll be able to get to me before the reporters do. I mean, I've handled a million interviews and even uncomfortable questions before, but nothing like this.

"Maybe you should think about what you want to do about that," he suggests, "It's best to have a plan, right? Obviously, you don't want people to be prying into your personal business, but if you don't say anything, then…"

"Speculation could get out of control. That's what you're saying."

If it was anyone else saying this to me, especially another reporter, I would suspect him of trying to convince me to give an official statement. I know better, and I think he does too. Yakov would tell me to keep my mouth shut and don't talk to anyone. He'd tell me to let him do the talking.

"I don't think it will be a problem," I assure Morooka, "Yakov's flight will be there ahead of mine. I'll just wait until he contacts me."

"You didn't know?" Morooka asks sympathetically, "That flight was delayed."

Shit, can anything else go wrong?

"Do you want me to run some interference for you?" he offers.

It's nice to have friends in the right places.

"What can you really do?" I ask him, "Don't you think some of those reporters are going to know I'm traveling alone? As soon as I get off this plane and exit the gate, I'm going to be face to face with them. So, maybe I should just tell you."

I'm surprised to see him frown like he does.

"I'm not trying to get a statement from you, if that's what you think."

"But maybe it's better that I just give you one," I offer, "After all, as long as it was just high spirits and overexcitement, people can handle that. I have a reputation for being the life of the party. So, let's just say that the party got a little too lively and I drank too much and passed out. It happens all of the time, especially when things get exciting. I think the world can handle that, right?"

He gives me a look like he knows damned well it's more than that.

"Look, if that's the case, then I'm relieved, but if something is really wrong…you know I want to help."

"Well, nothing major is wrong," I tell him, "I overdid it and passed out. I got medical treatment and I am fine. I plan to be wiser in the future, especially now that I'm returning to the ice. I'm willing to say that on record to you."

I can see perfectly well that he didn't like that answer at all, but he nods.

"Okay. But…off the record? I'm kind of worried by some things I heard back in Barcelona."

"Not to worry," I chuckle, "What happens in Barcelona, stays in Barcelona, right?"

"You should probably hope that it does."

I feel even worse as I watch him leave.

Maybe I should have taken him up on the protection. I really don't feel like dealing with all of that. Still, giving Morooka a statement gives me the ability to just not comment to anyone else. When they start speculating, he'll head them off with a report on his little chat with me, and this will all go away.

Unless it leaks that I'm going into rehab.

I mean, my medical records are private. No one should know. But…word can get out, and if it does, then it will make me look more troubled, because it will be obvious that I was lying to Morooka. Maybe I should put the treatment off for a little while…just until there isn't attention being focused on it.

Yes, that would probably be best.

After all, the problem wasn't that I was drinking too much normally. It was that I have been drinking for emotional reasons and I had a couple of blackouts. But things will be better now, right? Yuuri is going to be moving in with me and we're going to be skating together, so it'll be fine, won't it? It won't be like it was before. I just have to get through the next few months, then we'll be in the off season, and things will settle down again.

I comfort myself with that as the flight continues.

When we land, I disembark and I head for the gate, where, as Morooka said, there is a small crowd of reporters waiting. I smile as they step into my path.

"Victor, have you heard what's being said about what happened in Barcelona?" a lady reporter asks.

"Is it true that you were hospitalized there?" another adds.

"Would you like to make a statement about that? There are rumors that you aren't well."

"I assure you, I am fine," I tell them, "It was just an exciting atmosphere in Barcelona and I overdid it one time. I wasn't hospitalized. I was just observed to make sure everything was as it should be. I'm grateful for the concern, but you'll have to excuse me. I need to be going."

I hurry to a waiting car and ride back home.

Unfortunately, I forgot that the renovation I ordered has begun, so that master bedroom and bathroom are not usable. Add to that, a lot of my things are in Hasetsu. I have some furniture, but all of the clothes I have are in my suitcase. I take the suitcase to my spare bedroom and spend a little while unpacking and searching for the bottle of pills I was taking. Unable to find them, I go to the kitchen to make some tea.

Ah, but the ginger and chamomile teas that are more soothing are also in Hasetsu. I have coffee, but it'snot decaf, and I was warned that if I didn't take the sedatives as prescribed, I would get jittery

What a pain.

It's kind of late for going out to get tea, and I'm tired from the excitement and that flight back, so I undress and climb into bed, ignoring the million messages on my phone. An hour later, I still haven't fallen asleep and I kind of feel twitchy. I take a hot bath, but all of my bath bubbles and things like that are not here. Still, the hot water does make me sleepy enough to drift off.

But as I start to go to sleep, I hear the doorbell and I know that there's only one damned person it could be.

You couldn't wait until morning, Yakov?

I put on a robe and stumble to the front door, peeking out to make sure it's him before opening the door.

"Yakov, it's late. Do you mind if we wait until morning to talk?"

"Do you want to tell me what the hell you were doing, talking to reporters about what happened in Barcelona without me?" he yells.

I close the doors to spare the neighbors, and I give Yakov a sleepy look.

"I knew what to say to keep things calm," I tell him, "Morooka was on my flight. It's fine. I told him I just overdid it, and that I was observed overnight and released. What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that is that you are supposed to be going to rehabilitation," he snaps, "You know because you made this statement, everyone will be watching you."

"So, I'll just wait a few weeks, until after Russian Nationals, and then I'll start," I explain, "I was going to have trouble doing that and training anyway."

"That wasn't the deal for your return to training, and you know it, Vitya!" he shouts, "You need to be in rehab now."

"I told you I would go and I will, just not right this minute," I try to soothe him.

"If you expect me to coach you…"

"Oh, you're not going to do that, are you?" I ask, frowning, "because you know I don't want another coach, and it'll be bad if I try to go without one."

I can practically see steam coming out of his ears, and I know I'm about to get a harsh scolding, so I cover my ears while he yells at me for awhile.

"Yakov, it's really late. Can you finish scolding me in the morning. I have to train."

"You're not setting one foot on the ice until you do what you promised to do!"

"But, you said it yourself. If I go to rehab now, it's going to get around that I'm going in for treatment of some kind. And the doctors can't release information, and I know you won't want to, so people will run wild with the speculation."

"Why the hell couldn't you just have kept your mouth shut like I always tell you! You did this on purpose so that you could put this off."

"Yakov, I will be fine, but I do need some sleep. Do you mind if we talk tomorrow? We'll work things out. I promise."

"Grr, fine!" he snarls, "but you are coming home to Lilia's house, where I'm staying with Yuri and her."

"No, I don't want to go there."

"Why not? Lilia treats you like a prince."

"She flirts with me too much," I complain, "And if Yurio's heard about all of the uproar, then he'll be annoying. I won't be able to sleep there at all. I'm fine here. I just need to go to bed."

"There's no way I'm leaving you here alone."

"What? You think I have that much of a problem that I'll drink myself to death tonight? I'm not going to do that. I'm just tired and I need to sleep if you don't want me dozing off in training."

"I still haven't said you can train tomorrow."

"Why would you not want me to train? I need as much ice time between now and the nationals as I can get in. You know that, Yakov."

"You little miscreant!" he yells, "Do you think I don't know what you're doing? You knew when you talked to that reporter, that you wouldn't be able to go to rehab right away. You wanted to put it off, didn't you. But you need treatment…"

"Listen to you, going on and on," I sigh, "I told you I would go and I will when my schedule is lighter. It will be good to wait until Yuuri's here anyway, because they already said that I need good support. Now, why don't you just go on home and let me get some sleep?"

"I told you I'm not leaving you alone," he growls, "I'm staying here with you, and that's final!"

"All right, all right," I laugh, "if you really want to have a slumber party with me, it's fine. Just be a little quieter. I'm going to sleep. Oh, and you'll have to sleep on the couch, because I'm having the master bedroom and bathroom redone and I can't use them right now."

He grumbles a bit more and goes off to settle in, while I go back to the spare room and lie down. I can't fall asleep right away, so I check my messages, I find several from Yuuri, asking about what's going on with the reporters.

It's fine, I send back, Don't worry about it. Someone at the emergency clinic must have passed the story around, but I'm handling it. Just don't speak to anyone about it, and it will die down.

I set the phone down, but in a few seconds it makes a notification sound.

Victor, are you all right? I found your pills in my things. I guess you put them in the wrong bag. Do you want me to send them to you?"

At least I know where they are now.

No, you don't have to. I can get more if I need them. Get some rest now. You had a longer flight than I did. Love you.

Love you too, he sends back.

I lie down to sleep, but I wake up again an hour later from a horrible nightmare, in a sweat and shaking all over. My heart is racing and I feel like I can't calm down. Luckily, I remember how Hiroko taught me to help when Yuuri had panic attacks. This feels like one. So, I sit in bed, breathing slowly and focusing on the color of the bed covers, the light scent of paint from the construction, the softness of the bed, anything to help ground me. It takes a long time, and I'm still a little shaky and afraid to fall asleep, but eventually exhaustion takes over and I can rest.